


One Week

by CoffeeMedic



Category: The White Vault (Podcast)
Genre: Characters not being able to trust their senses, Drabble, F/M, Hospitalization, M/M, Multi, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Religious Imagery and Symbolism but not explicitly assigned to any religion, Spoilers, Spoilers for seasons 1-3, Travel is Not Advised if you havent gotten through seasons 1-3 I cannot say this enough, canon-typical creepiness, drabblefic, the pairings are mentioned but theyre not a focus here tbh, we didnt get all the recordings from the outpost so whos to say that it wasnt gay and/or poly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeMedic/pseuds/CoffeeMedic
Summary: Glimpses into the week that Graham was in the hospital.
Relationships: Implied Graham Casner/Walter Heath, Implied Rosa De Le Torre/Graham Casner, Implied Rosa De Le Torre/Graham Casner/Walter Heath
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Day 1- Daytime

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction contains spoilers for Seasons 1-3 of The White Vault. If you have not completed these seasons, Travel is Not Advised.

Graham Casner is a rational man. He plans and calculates. Considers as many options as are feasible, and then chooses the best option for success. He does not make his decisions lightly.

Once he had figured out that it wasn’t a fever dream, and actually in the hospital, he immediately had tried to leave. The doctor had informed him that he was under observation and should not leave quite yet. That he would need some fluids, nourishment, and bed rest. When he had demanded to sign himself out, the nurses merely shrugged, and no one in the hospital would help or tell him more than that. The security guards at the front blocked his path when he had tried to leave, and silently escorted him back to his room.

Graham begrudgingly concludes after an entire morning of this, that it would be in his best interest to play along. For now.

The hospital is not that god-forsaken outpost. There is no impassable snow, no underground cave system, and nothing trying to place his still beating heart in a box with his teeth. It could not hold him forever.

He decides that if nothing changes by the end of the week, he’s going to get out of here one way or another and get the hell back to Halifax. He considers contacting his daughter, but that would be if everything else went according to plan. He’d think on that more later.

He writes down his next steps, the short bullet point list granting him a slight relief. He would contact his consulate, get his passport, book his flight, and leave this fucking hospital.

Graham watches from the second-floor window into the courtyard, his eyes scanning the area for threats out of habit. Whoever or whatever the hell is keeping him at this hospital might want him dead. He must keep watch, stay vigilant.

Stay alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! This is my first fanfic in a while, and I hope that you all enjoy it. I'll try and release these on a weekly basis, but no promises. 
> 
> Also, as it stands, I have no beta so I apologize for spelling errors and grammatical issues. This all started as freeform and I kinda just.... put it together? In any case, thank you again for reading.
> 
> Stay safe out there, 
> 
> Coffeemedic


	2. Day 1- Night

That night, Graham finds himself in the hospital chapel. He knows, in a way that is unknowable, that the others are dead or gone.

The chapel is round and cavernous, with a large statue of a deity he no longer cared to pray to as its focal point. A smooth, seamless white box for tithes sits on the altar before it. The room is darker than he would like, but there are candles lit on each side of the room. The flames flicker and dance obscuring it’s true size. He tries to ignore the statue’s gaze as he approaches the small area for memorial candles.

Graham is not a religious man. But Rosa is. Was.

He lights a candle for her, and takes a moment. He knows, that she would have carried herself with dignity and strength, and would have cared for Jonas to the bitter end. He can’t bring himself to hope that she lived, but hopes that if she died, that her life ended quickly. He would miss her. He hopes that *Thing* isn't playing her voice like a broken record like it did with Walter or-

Walter’s name gives him pause. By the end, he had come to enjoy the other man’s company as well. Not unlike Rosa’s, but the pair (and then eventual trio) had been more discrete. Walter had been a good man. He was oddly handsome and competent if sometimes brash. It had felt like the closest thing to home in that icy wasteland listening to Walter and Rosa exchange stories and chat after they’d… Graham shakes his head; it wouldn’t do anyone any good to dwell on the past.

The hiss of another match being struck filled the room before another candle came to life next to the first. Wherever those two were, he hoped they’d keep an eye out for him.

He lights two more candles, one for Karina, and one for Jonas. He hopes for both, that their loved ones don’t learn of what truly happened in Svalbard. When he’s done, he turns, grabbing a final candle from the box that contained them. A slight movement catches his attention.

A pair of large statues were directly next to the door he entered through. They seemed too large for him not to have noticed before.

In that moment, Graham realizes that he is alone. Remembers that it's not safe to be alone. Not anymore.

Heart pounding, he slowly pockets the final candle, and leaves. The feeling of being watched never lifting from his shoulders until he closes the door to his room.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is gay and I'm not sorry. We didn't get all the recordings from the outpost so whos to say it wasn't the gayest place in Svalbard. 
> 
> Stay Safe out there, 
> 
> -Coffeemedic


	3. Day 1.5- 3AM

He is awoken by polite knocking on his door. A soft honeyed voice says something that he can’t quite seem to process with his whirling sleep-deprived mind.

“ _ Graham…Let me in, it is cold…and you are warm _ .”

With the violence and speed of a bear trap snapping shut, he comprehends.

_ “ Let me in, it is cold….” _

Graham nearly rips out the drawer of his bedside table digging for the stolen candle and matches.

_ “…and you are warm _ .”

He breaks two matches in half before the candle is finally lit, holding it out. His breath catches and burns on frigid air. The small flame lets him see into the darkness, the shadows stretching long, and thin, and reaching.

Karina’s breathy voice, in perfect Russian, slithers under the door.

“ _ So... Very warm…” _ . 

His small stolen candle flickers dangerously with each word. He brings it close to his chest to keep it safe. The shadows grow and close in on him with each pounding heartbeat that echoes around the room.

“ _ Graham…Let me in.”  _ it was not a request this time.

His attention is dragged back to the door, the sound of static filling his ears. It is then he realizes.

This is a hospital.

Hospital rooms do not lock from the inside.

The door is open _. _

_ The door is open. _

The knocks stop, before the door knob begins to quietly rattle. As if whatever lurked outside the door had followed his train of thought. As if something was testing it to see if its entry had been blocked.

And then, very slowly, the knob starts to turn.

The flame of his candle sputters and the shadows lunge closer, greedily consuming all but the smallest glow held close to his heart.

Molten wax spills onto his shaking hand granting him clarity and rage. The candle burns brighter, chasing away the darkness as Graham’s animosity burns away his fear.

“If you take one  _ fucking  _ step in here,” he growls, low and menacing, "I'll-"

The doorknob stops, then turns back. It's silent for an impossibly long moment before three dull metallic knocks ring out once more.

“Fuck. Off.” 

Quiet, delicate footsteps can be heard after another moment's pause before it's silent once more. The burn on his hand asks for attention, but it’s ignored in favor of keeping his eyes glued to the door.

No one else is there to keep watch over the entrance, to make sure that it doesn’t come back and take him too. By the time he judges that there is no longer an immediate threat, the wax has cooled completely to his skin. He passes the candle reverently to his other hand, making sure that its flame isn’t threatened by the movement.

It's a superficial burn and doesn't seem to impede movement, he observes, flexing his hand to crack the freshly set wax. Uncomfortable, yes, but he's had worse. 

He places the candle on the side table before settling down back into the thin sheets. The warm glow at his back puts him more at ease as he faces the door, keeping watch before he drifts into a light slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have somehow conned a person into beta'ing for me and I'm incredibly grateful for their presence and guidance. Everyone say thank you to Kaygee <3
> 
> Also. 4.7 sure did happen huh. 
> 
> Stay Safe out there, 
> 
> -Coffeemedic


End file.
